


Touchstones of our Characters

by truc



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Blackmail, Dark, Do not expect a good ending!, Dreams, Enemies, F/M, Jealousy, Love, Lovers, M/M, Multi, Pining, Psychological, Tragedy, Twisted dreams, Unfufilled dreams, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: Again and again, Superman dreams up a world where he could end up with Batman. Unfortunately, his subconscious does not make it easy... His dark urges, weaknesses and lack of confidence in romance are his main antagonists (seen as villains, events and various lovers).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a new story line. They are all part of Superman, Kal El or Clark's dream to be with Batman. 
> 
> Everyone thought Batman needed therapy. Nobody seems to notice Superman probably needs some too.

"All that we see or seen is but a dream within a dream"  
-Edgar Allan Poe

 

Clark hated dreaming. 

He twisted on his bed, trying not to bother Lois sleeping contently (for once) on her side of the bed. As a Kryptonian, Clark had no need for a long sleep. On the other hand, it was the only time he let himself imagine another life. Lois was his choice in real life, yet nobody could stop him thinking of someone else when he was dreaming. 

At the beginning, his dreams had been nonexistent banal conversations with Bruce or Batman. He would talk about his work as a journalist, his mother or the Justice League. Bruce would grunt once or twice in the conversation. For a while, that had been enough. 

Then, Bruce had smiled in a dream at one of Superman's random complaint about his mother's protectiveness. A real rare Bruce smile. Not Brucie's, not Batman's. Bruce's. 

Clark had wanted to dream up new situations in which Bruce smiled. That had been a failure. The smile were always a surprise in real life and unpredictable. 

It had been easier to dream up contact. Simple ones at the start. Shaking hands, touching Bruce's elbow or shoulder... That had been easy.

Clark had tried to imagine romantic situations such as dinners, movies and 'normal' dates. That did not work. Paparazzi, co-workers or villains were always coming in before Clark or Bruce could kiss the other. Bruce would revert to Brucie and Clark to the clumsy journalist facade. And Clark could feel the nasty aftertaste of a wasted chance on his morning breath when he woke from such a dream. Lois would tease him about his grumpiness. 

So Clark had begun to see sexual dreams of himself and Bruce making out and having sex in the Batcave, Javelin, Watchtower, the sky, Bruce's or his bedroom or bathroom. For a while, Clark had been satisfied with his wet dreams. 

Then he wasn't. 

Clark had realized he wanted to wake up beside Bruce in his dreams and gaze him slowly smiling lazily at him, not just an hormonal sexual release. He wanted the bickering, the silent conversations, the love making and the romance all together in his dreams. That is when his dreams took a bizarre turn.


	2. First Dream-Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Justice League has just been captured by Zod. Kal, young married scientist freshly arrived from Krypton, is trying to understand Earth's situation while being attracted to the mysterious Batman.

“The bonds of friendship dwindle with age, Oliver. But a little blackmail lasts forever.” 

-Stephen Hurt, The Court of Air 

Earth was like nothing he had ever seen. Kryptonians told tales that the planet could steal your soul if you weren't prepared. Kal was prepared or so he thought before seeing the tantalizing deep blue planet. Nothing could really prepare anyone for that, he whimsically thought.

"How is my dear Zanar?", Kal's father, Zod asks him as soon as he got out of the ship. "She's fine. She wants me to be back in time for our first child's birthday. I couldn't swear I would be there so she pouted on the holographs for the rest of the trip", Kal dutifully answers with a smile. "She has her mother's character, that one", Zod says walking into the throne room. "Enough about me, how is it going for you with the invasion? Not too difficult?", Kal prods his proud father. 

His father sighs. "Well, the Justice League was trouble enough. Almost managed to drag us out of the planet. Fortunately, we captured them all today so we are celebrating their capture and this evening we will be sending them to the Phantom Zone. Afterwards, the invasion will go much faster", Zod finishes with a smirk. 

"By Rao! I really arrived at the right time then. I want to make a sketch of those dangerous criminals terrorizing Kryptonians before they are sent over!" Kal enthusiastically asserts. 

"Kal, you know it is a military endeavor. Civilians should not be endangered", his father strictly remonstrates him. 

"Please father, it is for posterity!", begs a puppy eyed Kal. Zod ponders the issue before carefully acquiescing. Before Kal can dance, Zod pulls him over, "Listen carefully, they are very dangerous criminals. Stay away from them. Don't talk, don't make eye contact. Understood?". Kal smiles excitingly at him and military salutes him, "Understood, Sir!". He can feel his father's exasperation, nonetheless, Kal is on cloud nine. He gets to see dangerous criminals! Would they look like Brainiac or Doomsday?

Kal takes his place on the far side of the throne's room when the legendary criminals walk forward. A beautiful black haired man sits close to him and introduces himself as Janir.

The young intern named Janir sensually whispers descriptions of the members to Kal: "The half naked man is a fish man, more powerful than humans and with some talents under the water. The green man is a Martian shapeshifter and telepath. He can also pass through matter. His manacles were specifically made for him. The blond haired human in the red suit is very very fast. His manacles on his feet and his hands stops him from moving fast. He almost escaped by hitting his jailers with his head. The woman with wings is an alien with fury in her eyes and behavior. The woman with the tiara has a too complicated story. We don't know if she is clay come to life by some entities or if one of her parents is a God. No matter, she is very strong and her lasso compels the truth from anyone. The man dressed in brown was in possession of Green Lantern before we cut off his finger. Still, his willpower is supposedly legendary and I can believe it."

Kal looks at the intern. The other smiles at him and his lips slowly trails on Kal's cheek, "You are so pretty, Kal. Let me love you." Kal wants to and he kisses the man hesitatingly. The other deepens the kiss. They break up when they hear Zod orders, "Remove your hood" to a man costumed in black, the only one Janir had not introduced to him. 

"Who is that?", Kal asks frankly curious. Janir shivers, "Batman". Kal looks up. Janir shakes his head, "We don't know much. He doesn't seem to have powers, but we don't know. He's dangerous". Kal still stares at Janir and Janir continues his explanation, "I was sent undercover in his hellish city as a guy named Richard Grayson. I'll never go to Gotham again". Kal's eyes opens more, "Even with our powers?". Janir leans toward him and puts an arm around him, "Even with our powers". 

Together, they watch Zod hit Batman and threatens to kill a human servant if he doesn't remove his hood. Batman slowly removes it. Kal is astonished by the man's otherworldly beauty; perfectly shaped cheekbones, piercing deep blue eyes and pale skin on which the blood trails render it vulnerable and delicate like a doll. The black matted hair enhance the man's mysterious allure. Kal stops breathing and Janir leans in closer and whispers, "He is a dangerous criminal, yet he is so pretty. I almost want to take him and keep him". The young newly arrived Kryptonian had to agree. It seemed a waste of sending him to the Phantom Zone.

Zod asks for the group's leader. No one of the criminals respond to him. Zod threatens to kill the man in black if nobody comes forward. The half fish man comes forward. Zod takes him to a separate room, leaving the rest under strict orders. 

Zod comes back without the fish man and kills the servant woman. It is then Kal realizes Janir is not beside him anymore. He notices the dead woman becomes Selina Kyle and Bru...Batman roars forward with an anger Kal has not seen since Jason's death. Then Kal is alone with Batman in his cell. 

The man growls at Kal, as a wolf at a threat. Kal feels unconditional love for the strange beast and decides to sit at his eye level, "I'll help you Bruce".

The damaged doll stares at him suspiciously, "Why?"

Kal kisses him on the mouth and Bruce does not fight him, yet neither does he deepens it. Kal breaks the kiss, "Because of this", he simply says. Bruce suddenly looks much older, his tired eyes taking in Selina's corpse on the ground of his cell, "Fine. Help us save our world". Kal's teeth shows with his grin. He hugs the old man and they break the other heroes out of their cells, zeta-ed up to the Watchtower and Batman orders everyone around except for Kal. 

Kal impatiently waits his turn. Batman finally takes his arm and they appear in a room. Yet, it is not a Watchtower room. It is a Clark Kent's room and Kal is no longer Kal. He has the ill-fitting suit and Bruce looks at him as Brucie Wayne with a hint of Batman's aggressiveness and Bruce's irony, "Is that what you wanted Clark?" 

The dream fell apart as quickly as the real Bruce had appeared. 

Clark woke up alone in bed. Lois was gone for a trip. Clark remembered his dream and he was ashamed he had decided to become Earth's Savior in exchange for Bruce being in his bed. Bruce had been right, "what is it that you wanted?" Clark knew Bruce would always sacrifice himself for the world's good. And he had taken advantage of that. 

Clark didn't push his introspection into trying to figure out why he had been kissing Dick, why Zod had been his father or why Selina died. He didn't want to see every one of his lies laid bare before him. 


	3. Second Dream- Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dream. No backstory required to understand this one.

"If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything"  
-Mark Twain

Superman flew in the roof, sending pieces of crystals all over the sumptuously decorated room. Nobody noticed. 

Diana dressed in a white dress, looking simply divine, flirted with Bruce Wayne, sporting a dark blue tuxedo. 

"Bruce!", Superman yelled while landing between them. 

"What do you think you are doing?", Diana asked tersely. Superman looked toward Bruce, but he had disappeared. Nonetheless, he noticed Green Arrow in full costume was discussing politics with an armored Lex Luthor while simply dressed Lana was giggling with professionally dressed Lois Lane. 

"Didn't we agree, Kal, not to show jealously toward the other while Lois and Steve were still alive?" Diana proceed to move forward menacingly toward Superman. 

"Uh?"

"So why are you showing jealousy now after all that time, Clark?" Diana pressed, a golden lasso appearing in her hands. Superman looked down and saw he was wearing Clark Kent's hideous formal outfit with the glasses he hated more than anything else.

Diana captured Clark with the lasso, "Tell me Clark, what is the truth? Why are you jealous now?"

"I was jealous of you flirting with Bruce. I wanted to flirt with him", Clark painfully confessed.

Diana seemed surprised, "Bruce? By Hera, Clark, you are greedy". Her white dress morphed into a sunflower dress and she said, "You want me, you want Lois and, now you want Bruce?". She laughed, not happily but mocking him, "Can't you make up your mind?".

"Yes, I want you. I want Lois. But I also want Bruce."

Diana took back her lasso and gave it a whirl, the lasso snaking around her wrist, "Fine, I'll tell you the truth, Superman."

"No! Diana, don't!", Kal heard himself yell.

Diana's outfit became her warrior's outfit. She smiled at him, "Kal, you have to admit the truth. The truth is you could have chosen Bruce, but you didn't".

"That's a lie!", Kal whispered back, "Bruce never lets anyone in. He refused everyone".

"Clark, we both know that is untrue. Bruce was emotionally dependent on us. If either of us had wanted Bruce, we could have chosen him. It would have been a lot of work, but either one of us could have pursued and won him over", Diana looked down at the moving tiles on the floor dancing below them.

Superman tried to fly away, but he couldn't move away even with all his powers. Diana turned to examine Bruce talking to Jim Gordon about a case and she whispered, "But neither of us chose him". Superman felt panic rising in his chest and his hands became sweaty. He felt tears welling in his eyes, "Don't, Diana. Please don't", he begged the goddess of truth.

She didn't listen, "I chose Steve. You chose Lois. Neither of us chose him". Superman tried tearing his hair out, instead, his hands came down covered in human blood.

Clark heard Diana say. "He is not like you or me. He does not have lifetimes to give away. We both chose a human to give our first love to. Later, we can still be together, like the cowards we both are. We wanted both the human love and the superhuman love. We couldn't chose so we chose both. The only one we didn't choose was him".

Clark realized he was kneeling on the floor, heavy drops of blood falling on him while the whole gala hall was darkening. He begged "Please Diana, I want him too. Can't I have him here at least?"

Diana turned to face him again, lasso still on her arm, "No. Accept you didn't choose him. You can't have Lois and him. You know that. Even if Lois were to die before him, he would never accept being second place". Clark felt weak and scared. Diana's face was harsh with love.

"I see. I hope I can bring you back", Diana said while clapping her hands. Jim Gordon became Doomsday and attacked Bruce while Lana became the Joker pointing a knife at Lois's neck. "You can only save one", Diana regally said, now wearing her mother's ceremonial dress. Superman gulped, "No, with my powers, I can save both". His statement saddened Diana, "In here, you are weak and so are they". Blood splattered everywhere as Bruce was smashed to the floor and Lois's neck was stabbed open, blood running like a river to the ocean.

Clark's scream was stuck in his throat. "Clark, you could have saved one, but you couldn't decide so you choose no one. See? Stop hesitating. Nothing good would come of it", Diana said while tucking her lasso on her hips, "You already made your choice. Why regret it now?".

Clark's despair transformed into anger and he took Diana's lasso and strangled her with it. Diana turned back to clay, melting to the ground and Clark yelled his regret.

"Clark, Clark, wake up!", Lois's voice was saying. Clark woke up in his bed with his wife touching his arms, trying to wake him up. "Lois?", he murmured slowly. "Yes, Clark, what did you dream of for you to scream like that?", Lois worriedly asked. He swallowed, "You... The Joker killed you in my nightmare". Lois carded his hair, "I'm fine Clark. I'm fine".

Clark turned toward her and hugged her, "Yes, you are".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Superman tries to dream up interactions with Bruce. It doesn't mean he always gets them.


	4. Third Dream- The Unsung Verse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark dreams of the farm... and the Injustice world, among other things. 
> 
> Warning: Rape included though it is not all that explicit.

“Just the kind of girl I liked—the weirdo in the bunch.” 

\- Anthony Kiedis, Scar Tissue 

 

"Mom, I finished milking the cows and feeding the chicken. Did you have any other chores you want me to do?", Clark yells in his mother's house. She comes to him, cleaning her hands on the dress: "Clark! What a pleasure to see you! It has been a long time!". Clark feels his stomach twist in guilt. It is true he forgot to help out his mom recently. 

"Oh, Darling", she says while she hugs him tight. "If I had one thing to ask of you it would be...", she hesitates to finish. 

"Anything for you mom", Clark reassures her. She blinks her eyes a few times before a huge grin takes over her face, "Then, could you stop killing people? It is not very nice". 

Clark stops breathing, "Killing people?"

"Well, yes, you know since you captured your friend Bruce, shouldn't the war be almost over?" Martha continues while moving up her sleeves, "Now, do you want a pumpkin pie or an apple one?"

"Mom!", Clark replies, devastated to learn he was killing people. "Silly me, of course, you prefer the apple one. Just wait a minute and it will be ready", Martha says with a laugh. "Now, be a dear and fetch me some flour, would you?" 

Clark abandons trying to explain anything to his mother and walks into the kitchen. Unfortunately, half of his parents' kitchen is filled with a Watchtower room. A battered Batman is hung by his arms and legs like a sacrificial offering for a god. The young farmer is left baffled by the Bruce's situation when Hal Jordan walks in the front door, "Hey Kal. It was a good idea to keep him alive to make him regret rebelling. I made him regret it a lot today". Hal seems as smug as when he tells tales of sexual prowess. Kal clenches his fist. At the same time, the thought of Hal fucking a very submissive Bruce makes his groin react.

"Hal", Martha calls from another room, "Don't forget to get rid of most of your dirt on the mat at the entrance". Hal looks at the dirt tracks he is leaving behind and responds, "Aye Aye Madam". Clark does not understand anything. He looks back to Batman and he is still hung in the same position, yet no clothes now dress his bleeding body. For a second, the farmer get sucked into studying the scars, blood, muscle of unresponsive Bruce's impressive body.

His mother's voice beside him shake him out before he can trace the scars on his friend's body with his fingers, "Clark, you invited Hal over to play with Bruce. When will you invite Lois? I'm sure she would be pleased too". Hal smiles at her in greeting.

"Isn't Lois dead?", Clark asks without taking his eyes off Bruce. Both Hal and Martha seem appall by that. "She died? Why didn't you tell me before?", Martha clamors. Clark hesitates, "How did this fight with Bruce start?"

Hal puts an hand on Clark's shoulder and Clark tries, unsuccessfully, to avoid flinching. "Well, Circe manipulated Bruce to get Diana and your child in Gotham and kill her. You tried to arrest Circe. Bruce almost killed you. Then, you killed Circe. Bruce had already killed Diana and your child by then. You wanted Bruce to undergo some major psychiatric sessions to make sure he was fine. He didn't want anyone in his head. War kind of started from there. But, hey, we won!", Hal finishes with a proud smile. Martha was looking worriedly at Clark so he pretends nothing was wrong with the current situation.

"So, Clark, your turn now?", Hal pleasantly asks. Before Clark can answer, Martha says, "No need to feel shy on my account. It is not the first time I have seen you play with him". Clark reddens, what did his mother see?

As if to answer Clark's unspoken question, Hal praises him, "You know, it had to take guts to go on live television and take Bruce apart in front of the whole world. I can't believe you had it in you. I mean, I thought you were the prude one". Martha answers, "My husband and I made sure our son was proud of his body. Sometimes, I forget he is no longer a little boy". Clark feels himself turn red from his hair to his chest. HE DID WHAT?

"Should I bring Bruce's favorite tea for him? I know the drugs have been messing with his taste buds so if you think there is a better type, I'll go get it", Martha asks an ashamed looking Clark. "Uh", he helpfully responds.

"I'll take my usual tea, Martha", a calm Bruce dressed in a royal blue dress shirt enunciates from his usual spot at the table. Clark looks at the battered naked Bruce and finds him still there. "I'll get right to it, then", Clark's mother responds.

"There are two of you!?!", Clark exclaims to the sitting Bruce. Hal rolls his eyes, "Haven't you noticed how obsessed you've been about Spooky, lately? Of course there are more than one Bruce". "Shut up Jordan", Bruce responds, "you are only confusing him further".

Clark sits down as if in a daze while Hal continues leaning his back on the wall. "It can't be true", Clark finally declares. "You've been staring at my naked body all this time and that is all you find to say?", the sitting Bruce responds with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, your body is pretty tight, Spooky, but it is not that special", Hal smirks. "What part of 'shut up' don't you understand Jordan?", the swift reply comes.

"Spooky, I've been in your body more times than I can count. I know you like me talking; it makes you come faster".

The sitting Bruce sighs, "Well, we can ignore him and, hopefully, you'll make him disappear".

"I'll make him what?", a confused Clark asks.

Bruce leans back, "That is why I hate to explain things". Hal snickers, "Oh, so because you are bad teacher, you think it is our fault for not understanding? You have to actually say words for humans to understand, you know? We don't understand echolocation ."

Bruce ignores him as a cat would with something not worth his time, "As I was saying, Clark, you are starting to be able to control part of your dreams by remembering you are dreaming". Clark's look must have seem so lost, Bruce explained more while sipping his tea, "You can control a bit of your dreams. Why do you think your recent obsession with me was so clear in your dreams?"

"Because it is much easier to deal with you mean Bat in a dream than in real life where we can actually go to prison for the stuff we do here?", Hal unhelpfully answers.

Bruce does not even deign give Hal a glance, "It is because your conscious self is forcing your subconscious self to include me in all of your dreams".

"I force my dreams to include you? I wished for your rape in my dreams? I can't be that messed up", Clark affirms rather dejectedly.

"Clark, your dreams are actually kind of tame. Well, except for you thinking that me getting fucked by Jordan was arousing. You should really have your head check up on that one", Bruce explains, now drinking coffee.

"That's it!", Hal says, marching off somewhere.

"Where did he go?", Clark asks. Bruce grimaces, "Not important. The problem with your conscious self forcing your subconscious self to do something is that you are not letting your mind work out its issues correctly. You have been sleeping more and getting less done in the matter of cleaning up your mind space".

Clark hears a slapping sound of skin hitting skin and looks at the unconscious Bruce. Hal is pounding into him with a lot of groans and encouragements. Clark looks down and sees he is now wearing the Injustice Superman's outfit. Kal is enthralled by Bruce's body moving back and forth at Hal's thrusts, the motion almost as hypnotic as the blood dripping down on Bruce's chest.

Bang, he hears. A bleeding dead bird with a ring in his beak now lays in calm Bruce's coffee, gun smoke drifting mysteriously around him. "You are getting distracted. Think about what I said. It might be a villain's doing", sitting Bruce says.

"Why are you always this paranoid?", Kal had to scream in a threatening manner as he splits the table in two with one fist. Bruce's answering smile is breathtakingly Bruce, "You are the one dreaming me up. By the way, bats don't really communicate by echolocation, they mostly do it by screeches". Sitting Bruce vanishes and Martha comes in with a soup, "Hope you are hungry, I made lots".

"Thanks mom", he politely answers while turning in time to see Hal reach climax and release.

Of course Clark had to wake up with something tenting his boxers. Well, he decided, for his sanity's sake, he shouldn't try to analyze most of what happened in this dream. Although, Clark thought he should probably look up on the issue of his conscious self destroying his subconscious self's job. Maybe paranoid Bruce had a point, even if it being part of the villain's plan seems a stretch.


	5. Fourth Dream-the Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important backstory : Cal (short for Caliofer Kent) the super detective and his loyal assistant Lois Lame have been mandated by Alexander Luthiste, third of his name, pretentious curator of Metropolis Planet Museum, to uncover who stole the famous Golden Globe. The main suspects are John Jones, small town reporter, who never quite fitted anywhere and who turns green when stressed, Bruce Whyne, eighteen years-old violin prodigy whose 'blue blood artistic' parents were killed during his first public performance when he was eight year old and Jimmothy Olsen, small-time crook trying to make it big in the city. Cal is penniless and desperate to prove himself to his vicious assistant. The dream is in black and white.

“A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony.”  
-Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

The famous Metropolis Planet Museum had always impressed Cal since he had first come visit it with his parents in the summer of his third grade. The arches dwarfed anyone with grandiose pride and oppressing wealth, yet visitors could still feel welcome in the proud place. Advertisement would always claim cleanness and top quality expositions to attract more tourists, though, in Cal's point of view, the guides' and greeters' sincere cheerfulness were the true heart of the place.

As the halls were busy with milling persons all attending their own business, no one really noticing the bespectacled man in a rumpled long coat and frumpy hat moving toward his rendezvous point in the curators' section. The stairway went on and on with no decoration distinguishing any part from the previous one. Lois's words came to mind, "If you can't pay me by the end of the week, I'll have no choice but to quit! I understand your business is not going well, but I still have to live". This was is last chance at getting paid before the weekend. His last chance with Lois. She was no longer the (almost) sweet gal he had met years ago. But, neither was he the bushy-eyed fellow who had stuttered to her his attraction in the middle of a clumsy dance. Cal had realized a few hours ago times were changing when Alexander Luthiste, third of his name,'s call had been music to his ears. Good old Lex. Always sensing weaknesses with his eerily well tuned shark jaw. Nobody wanted to deal with him except if they were truly desperate. As Cal now was.

"Cal!", Cal heard Lex call from beside him when there was no longer any stairs to climb. Turning on himself, he saw his bald former classmate throwing a smile so pretentious and insincere any film director would have requested a actor doing that smile to tone it down for realistic purposes. "No one smiles like that in real life", they would have said.

Cal forced himself to respond with a small hesitant smile, "Lex. You wanted to see me about the Golden Globe?" The man invited him in, "Take a seat". Cal knew better than to accept one. Over the years he had ceased to be Lex's friend, he had lost most of his naivety and had come to recognize Lex's behavior as what it was; tactical and strategical means to achieve a goal. Lex wanted you to sit? He would hover tall above you to make you feel vulnerable and insignificant. At least, being jaded gave you the means to fight intimidation tactics and strategic positioning.

Lex turned his back to Cal and looked outside the giant window facing the town's downtown center. Lex would always look down on everyone else, which in Cal's opinion explained why Lex room's was the highest, fanciest and biggest in the curators section.

"Cal, I need your help", there was no plea in Lex's voice, only cold determination. "Why?", Cal asked his standard question. "Isn't it obvious?", the curator sardonically replies. Cal only paused only long enough to look outside, "No". Lex smiled, "I was right. You are the right man for the job".

Still keeping his back to Cal, Lex says, "The police won't catch the thief". Cal waits until Lex continued, "Nobody wants to throw him in jail even if he is the thief".

"Last I heard, there were three suspects", Cal calmly replied. Lex frowned in the glass's reflection, "But I am sure it is him".

Cal tilted his head. Lex sighed, "Don't be fooled by his spoiled brat appearance. That boy is brilliant. And dangerous". At that, Cal had to smirk, "He'll hit you with a violin? From all accounts, music is the only area he is not an idiot".

Lex turned around, eyes blazing, "Don't be a fool!" Then, Lex seemed to calm down as suddenly as he had lost control, "You'll understand when you meet him. He is not who he pretends he is. It didn't take me long to figure out he was a fake". The unspoken "because I am one too", was left unsaid. The glass window melted away under Lex's glare and flying vampire bats were hit and killed by the hot glass, "Time for you to go".

"Mister?", Cal asked John Jones the reporter. The other man had turned from his walk to the edge of the tall building, perching on the dirtiest streets of Metropolis, and watched him for a moment before giving him an understanding smile, "Yes?". "Are you the thief?", Lois Lame interjected. The reporter walked off the ledge and kept in place on air, "No. I am not a cat".

Cal nodded; he had, from his first interaction with John, deduced John was the kindest being he had the chance of knowing. He also knew John was an outsider like him in a world of humans. No matter their gifts, they had to be gentler with the humans than humans were as not to scare them away. Humans were like difficult cats who had to be lured into trusting you while you had to keep acting and acting. Veneer upon masks upon veneer... Cal could never truly be who he was. Neither could John. John was not human, therefore, he did not steal the Golden Globe.

"But you are a monster, aren't you?", Lois had pursued. Cal felt John's pain and sadness. John could feel Cal's pain and anger. Lois was human; she didn't have to play nice. Maybe that's why Cal had always loved her.

Lois had been the one who had caught poor Jimmothy and she had even sat on his back to make sure he couldn't escape. The young adult had cried and begged Lois to stop interrogating him. She was ruthless. He admitted he made his mother cry back home. His siblings needed new clothes. Jimmothy was good at sneaking, though the Golden Globe had not been his doing. He was impulsive and he did not look at long-term implications. He would steal small value things since he was too scare for the bigger things' consequences. Both Lois and Cal agreed Jimmothy was not the thieving mastermind who had pulled off the theft of the Golden Globe.

Seeing Bruce Whyne play from backstage was nothing like Cal had thought it would be.

At eight years old, Bruce had been supposed to performed after his musician parents' performances. Just before he could enter on stage, both parents were killed by a sniper. So photos of Bruce falling to his knees between his parents and painfully staring vacantly at the audience were stuck in news all over the world. Afterwards, one his parents' mentor, famous musician Alfred Pennyworth, took him under his wing and Bruce vanished from the public knowledge for almost ten years. When an idiot Bruce appeared alone for an audition, everyone had been surprised. Over the few months of his reappearance, critics acclaimed his performance as much as the boy's actual appearance on stage. Vacuous and empty Bruce Whyne would suddenly transformed into an angel. They had said Bruce was perfection on stage.

As with everything else, Cal had thought the critics had exaggerated. They had not. Bruce, appeared on stage with a violin, and he played like no one Cal had ever heard. Sometimes the violin was the razor at your throat, sometimes a child's velvet kiss on your cheek. Sadness no human should ever feel, anger so permeating it burned, joy so ephemeral it hurt... The sounds, as beautiful and dangerous as they were, was only half of Bruce's performance. In fact, it was rumored some audience member only came for how angelic he seemed during his performance. Bruce was pretty; stuck between childhood and adulthood, he had kept clear skin with eyes with a fiery adult intensity. His matted hair fell on his shoulders while his lips were still childlike, though one could imagine his parent's blood still staining it. Also, even if Bruce was standing in the center of the limelight, his face and body would inexplicably find shadows to blur his features. Photographs upon photographs had been taken, yet none of them truly gave all credit to the scene before Cal's eyes.

So at the end of Bruce's performances, Cal could see Bruce revert to his vacuous distant idiot self before he had reached the curtain. "Bruce Whyne?", Lois had asked. The teenager had looked at them and blinked uncertainly, "Yes?". Cal cleared his throat, "We are investigating the Golden Globe disappearance". The teenager did not say anything. Through all the interrogation from both Lois and Cal, Bruce sounded like a true idiot. He had no idea of his own, repeated what everyone had said, would get lost in thought for no reasons and would stare at something distant. Lois seemed to conclude Bruce was too much of an idiot to steal the Golden Globe.

Cal was now as convinced as Lex Bruce had stolen the Golden Globe. During his friendship with Lex, both Lex and Cal had been hiding under masks of their own makings. They could recognized masks better than anyone else except maybe John Jones. What Lex had said was true; Bruce was brilliant and he was dangerous.

Bruce invited Lois to dance and she accepted. Both were swirling as yin and yang upon the dance floor. Cal couldn't take his eyes off them. "I told you he was the one who stole it", Lex said from besides Cal. The detective sighed: "Yes, he did, but how will I prove it?". Lex smiled nastily: "You won't. I'm sure he made the perfect crime, but you just need to accept the Golden Globe's loss and let it go". Cal didn't understand.

"That man is dangerous", Lex pursued. Cal nodded and said sarcastically, "So are you Lex. You play everyone like pawns in your struggle for power". His former best friend turned to him, "No, he is worse. I want power for power's sake. He wants it as a means for something. I might take over the world, Cal, but I won't destroy humanity because I want to control everything. Him? He might because he is broken beyond repair. He has long since lost hope for humanity and has been continuing on a fool's errant. He probably traded his soul to the devil for music and for music he might destroy everyone and everything".

Cal continued looking at Bruce dancing with Lois. He noticed Bruce's shadow had horns and wings or was it a cape? Bruce had neither horns nor a cape. Maybe it was true he had sold his soul to a demon. Bruce was not Lex, hiding his power struggles under a mask. Bruce was not Cal nor John, hiding under a blanket of kindness, for fear of rejection. No, Bruce was a fragmented soul, broken over and over until the man was not a mask more than disparate pieces of himself incapable of being glued together, kept hazardously in one place by an unnamed feeling. Yes, Bruce was beautiful.

"Be it as it may, Lex, I won't just accept it."

For the first time in a long time, Cal saw raw sadness and grief in Lex's expression, "You are a fool, Cal. I wanted to save you just because of what you had meant to me back then, Cal. But it was a fool's endeavor if you refuse to be saved". Cal almost felt bad for Lex. They had been both fools to play with fire, each hurting the other until they couldn't stand it anymore.

Lex took out a Kryptonite knife and plunged it into Cal's chest, "If that is the only way I can save you, I will do it".

Cal woke with pain in his chest. He was unsure whether it came from the psychological effect of Kryptonite or whether Lex's pain had hurt him. He didn't really want to know.


	6. Fifth Dream-Monsters Under the Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is Kal-El's older brother.

“A monster's worst fear is of being found.”  
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Secrets of a Noble Key Keeper

Kal couldn't sleep. His friend Pete had indicated he would call him a scary-cat in front of Lana if he refused to watch an horror movie with him. Kal was not a scary-cat so he had watched the movie with Pete. His friend would not mock him in front of Lana. But, that was yesterday's issue. Now, Kal had a more immediate concern; he couldn't fall asleep.

Kal was eleven. He couldn't act like a kid any longer. He drew his sheets drown from over his head and turned to see his older brother sleeping on the other side of the room. Kal didn't want to disturb Bruce's sleep because, according to Alfred, his brother always had difficulty sleeping since their parents had died in front of him. Kal had been too young to remember their parents and he had been left at home that night. Bruce had seen everything. Nowadays, it was unusual for Bruce to sleep without nightmares.

The only reason Bruce and Kal were sleeping in the same room was Kal had requested it tonight and Kal was the only one who could get away with things like this. He had always known his brother couldn't say no to him. He used this power sparingly. He wanted his special privilege to go on forever.

Normally, when Kal couldn't sleep, he fetched Alfred. Kal didn't want Alfred tonight, he wanted Bruce. So, he woke him up with a slightly squeakier voice than normal, "Bruce?". "What's wrong, Kal?", a still sleepy Bruce had asked.

Kal fidgeted his reindeer pajama. Rubbing his eyes balefully, Bruce sat on his bed and invited Kal with a gesture to sit beside him. Kal sat beside him and leaned on his brother. It took a while for Bruce to awkwardly put his arm around Kal. The younger kid leaned further in Bruce's embrace, enjoying the rare gift of Bruce's comforting touch.

They sat there in silence. Kal knew Bruce could outlast him any day. His brother never had liked to talk much. Kal had once overheard Alfred speaking to Dr. Thompson about Bruce's condition and asking whether it was the trauma or if Bruce was an autistic person. Dr. Thompson was not sure; she said Bruce had always refused to be diagnosed and always made her life difficult when she tried. Kal had understood Bruce didn't talk much even before their parents' deaths.

"Bruce?", Kal finally said. "Yes Kal?", Bruce had answered gently, a tone he only used with his younger brother. "Monsters are scary", Kal muttered under his breath. Bruce did not answer immediately. Had Kal asked the wrong question?

"Are you scared of them?", Bruce softly whispered back. Kal had always known Bruce was very smart, much more so than himself, yet he was always surprised when Bruce caught on too quickly, almost as if his brother had mind reading abilities.

"No", Kal dejectedly replied. Bruce would know if he lied.

"What are you scared of, Kal?", Bruce whispered in the quietness. Bruce already knew. He wanted Kal to say it nonetheless, to name his feelings.

"I'm scared they will know I am a monster. That they will be scared of me, like they are of the other ones. That they will kill Alfred and you. That I will go mad and kill everyone. That I'll always be alone", Kal tearfully confessed. Bruce let his sobs subside before responding.

"Kal", he said while caressing his younger brother's hair with his unoccupied hand, "would you like for me to tell you a secret?". Kal was stunned into silence. He remembered to nod once to let Bruce know he would listen. His brother almost never spoke and he never told secrets.

"Kal. I'm scared of the same things".

"You are scared they will kill you and Alfred because of me?", Kal's uncertain voice wavered.

"No. I am scared the world will one day discover how much of a monster I am. That they will kill Alfred and you because of me. I am scared of losing control. I am scared of driving everyone away".

Kal furrowed his eyebrows, "But you are not a monster! You don't have laser in your eyes, nor do you bend metal with your hands!". Bruce turned his head toward him, deadly serious, looking hard in Kal's eyes, "Monsters don't need powers to be monsters and having powers does not mean you are a monster. Humans can be monsters and they sometimes are... Kal, do you trust me?"

Kal nodded, of course he did trust Bruce, while staring into Bruce's world-weary eyes. "Then listen to me. Kal, you are the warmest person I know and you will never be a monster, no matter what anyone else says. It doesn't mean you won't make mistakes. You will break again a vase or burn off the kitchen table. You'll have to watch out your entire life. But I am glad you are the one with your powers, because you are good, Kal. You are warm and you'll always be my favorite brother", Bruce finishes with a smile. Kal's felt his burden lightened up and he smiles through his tears. "And if anyone figures out your powers and wants to use them against you, we'll start our life again away from here with another identity. I'll always protect you, Kal and you'll never be alone", there was a slight tremor in Bruce's voice when he said his oath. Kal felt safe. His brother would always believe in him and protect him. Kal was lucky.

Kal fell asleep listening to Bruce's strong heartbeat.

Clark felt bittersweet waking up beside a sprawled over Lois. To date, it had been his most meaningful conversation with Bruce in any of his dreams, yet he felt almost as sad as he had been happy. Adult Clark understood Bruce had omitted saying he would always be with Kal. He had only said: "you'll never be alone". Bruce had side-stepped the issue with his brother.

Nobody had reassured teenager Bruce he was not a monster and he would not be alone. Bruce had believed Clark was not a monster. Bruce had believed he, himself, was the monster. Did real life Bruce believe the same?, Clark had to ask himself. Clark hoped he did not.

At that depressing thought, Clark decided to wear his Superman suit and to see who needed help. He didn't want another dream spoiling his last one. Nobody had ever told him that, not even his parents. Bruce's words would linger a long time in his mind like a piano chord in an empty cathedral. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering why this is a storyline about Clark dreaming up interactions with Bruce and almost all dreams have very limited interactions between the two of them, please remember this is part of Clark's subconscious. 
> 
> In real life, meaningful interactions with Bruce are rare even if Clark does have a good relationship with him. So Clark is mostly stuck talking about him with other people (Diana, Dick among others) or watching from afar. Getting Bruce to talk is difficult, but if you are a child in need of comfort (think of the Robins) or if Bruce has to discuss his latest conspiracy theory, you have a small chance of getting what you want. 
> 
> So best of luck to Clark for getting meaningful conversations, romance, sex and small caring gestures from Bruce in one dream!


	7. Intermission-When the Dreams End Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT A DREAM. 
> 
> Clark before the dreams.

“Nobody but you have to believe in your dreams to make them a reality.”  
― Germany Kent

 

Clark had worked extra hard at the Daily Planet. He was aware it was a way of ignoring his wife, seated near him. Over the past two months, he had noticed she was distancing herself from him, warily worried for him and angry at him. Clark didn't know why. He had done everything normally, actually more than usual. He slept oftener with her, kissed her more, worked more at the journal and even went on a vacation with her a week ago, something both of them had been looking forward to. 

The vacation in the Caribbeans became a disaster. Lois would be upset for the smallest things and she would find fault for not talking more or for a lack of enthusiast. Clark found it even more difficult to be enthusiast when his wife was so clearly unhappy. He couldn't even figure out why she was like that. 

They had had a big fight (or Lois started a fight and finished it while Clark had watched from the sidelines, completely uncertain what had set her off) at the end of trip and Lois wouldn't talk to him. No clear answers were forthcoming. 

Clark remembered when he fell in love with her and when he had first seen her at the Daily Planet. She was strong, smart, cunning and hid her kindness as if it was her darkest secret. Notwithstanding her dangerous intuition, Clark had been smitten by her because she was more direct and clear than any women he had ever seen before. She did not toy with him and she told him exactly what she felt and what he should do. There had been no ambiguity with her. Clark had rarely seen someone so thoroughly being themselves without lies, without secrets and without masks. It had been a nice change of pace from Clark's multiple identities crisis. 

Clark started a long courtship greatly undermined by Lois's poor opinion of Clark Kent and her admiration for Superman. Once she understood Clark was bad at meeting his commitments because of his hobby, she relented in her hate for his poor work ethics. He had slowly unwrapped her heart until it laid bare and vulnerable in his too powerful hands. It had humbled Clark and made him fall in love with her all over again. Clark gave her his heart, piece by piece, until she had the entire puzzle, yet there existed parts of Clark would-could never give her or tell her about. Nightmares and incidents she was better off never knowing.

At the beginning, he omitted dark version of the Justice League or alternate dimensions. Then, he found he would hide some of his adventures with Wonder Woman. Nothing had happened so it wasn't truly important, or so he thought. When Lois had figured it out (of course, she found out), Lois did not appreciate it. She felt he was omitting those missions because he loved Wonder Woman. Clark didn't realize it was the truth until much later. By then, he already knew he could have both Lois and Diana if his lifetime and Diana's were longer than Lois's. It felt wrong to think of his wife like that, yet he couldn't help it. He loved both of them, not in a competing way, but in a complementary way. Both made him whole and happy. Until Bruce died.

Kal had raged against God, screamed at the rest of the Justice League and had almost harmed Dick who had taken Bruce's cowl. Then, he had become so devastated he hid from everyone and everything. If Lois and Diana made him feel whole, Bruce's absence weighted on him like a hole in his soul. When Kal had finished trashing the Fortress in a fit of despair, he realized Bruce did not make him complete, grounded, whole or sane like Lois and Diana did. No, Bruce was his bittersweet chocolate cake, his guilty pleasure. It was not Lois's pragmatism and truth to oneself, it was not Diana's inhuman kindness and sincerity. Bruce was a puzzle you could never exactly unraveled, but you could lose yourself trying anyway. The flavor all the more addicting, as it was enigmatic and intriguing.

Bruce was not Kal's and would never have been, even were he alive.

Defeat had pushed Kal to return to his worried wife, apologize to the League and Dick and continue to save the world. Clark went a day at the time, his desperation slowly ebbing away. Kal saved the world, one responsibility at the time, another Batman at his side. Diana's friendship supported Kal through the transition. Lois was there for Clark and that had been enough.

Then, Bruce had come back.


	8. Sixth Dream-A Sunny Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Lois is sick. Clark is there with her.

“Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.”  
― Katharine Hepburn

 

Pete and Lana had come visit Lois together and Lois had smiled fondly at both from her bed. Clark wondered when she had decided Lana was no longer a rival. Maybe it just didn't matter anymore. 

Lois's sharp intuition had rapidly seen Lana as the threat she was. She was Clark's first love, first kiss... Was she also his first time? Lana was Clark's Smallville nostalgia. And Clark always had preferred the quaint town to Metropolis's modern charm. Lois was Metropolis's through and through. 

Clark squeezed his wife's hand. Her eyes gleamed with knowledge, pain and love. Pete and Lana disappeared in the morning sun, like snow on a sunny day. 

The bedroom, their antique wood decorated room was warmly made of inherited covers. The picture frame beside the bed was of their marriage and the one hanging on the wall was of their child smiling back at them. "When is Sheila coming?", Lois feeble voice asked quietly. Clark looked at his phone, "In a hour or so. There was a League emergency". Lois frowned at him. "What?", he tried to understand. "Didn't I banned that word?"

"You tried. I never understood why. You know they do good". Lois sighed, "They do good things. I have no real issue with the League except they were the ones stealing my husband". 

Clark froze. Did she mean Diana or the League? Clark had never cheated on his wife, yet his stomach still churned at the prospect of discussing Diana with Lois after all those years.

Lois looked at him sad and forlorn, "I knew. I always knew you loved another more than you loved me". Wrinkles appeared and disappeared around her eyes, making her seem ninety one moment, seventeen the next.

"Lois? I love you. Why would you think otherwise?"

"At first, I thought it was Superman who was keeping you fully away from me. Yes, gentle Superman. Then, I realized you hanged out with the strongest and bravest of the world's finest specimen. What could I ever offer you more than anyone of them could?"

Clark's outfit was now Superman's. This is a dream, he thought, I can make her stop. Superman cut in, interrupting Lois, "Lois, I always have loved you. I chose you because you are strong, passionate and kind". Lois's age was now her own. She laughed a ugly laugh, similar to the Joker's mad one, "You thought I didn't know it was a competition? I knew. Your Trinity, you were all in love with one another in some degree or another. Yet, I always knew, my real competition was him". Lois paused, the room becoming their Metropolis apartment.

"She was a superwoman. She would wait for you until I died. It hurt thinking of that, but that I could accept. Him? Not so much", Lois continued now pacing on the floor, the sun blinding Superman's eyesight and making him lower his eyes. "At first, I thought it would be easy. Here, Superman", she said, taking Superman's hand in her hand and dragging him to her. She laid her hands on his head and pushed him into a kiss. Superman wanted to stay in the warm embrace, he is safe within her arms. He does not know what his wife wants to prove with her stunt. He loves her and wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

Then, eight year old Bruce, covered in blood from head to toe, appears in the corner of the apartment, as Batman did once or twice, slowly separating from the darkness that calls him home. Young Bruce does not say or do anything, he simply watches the two adult kissing in the middle of the room. The non-expression on Bruce's face could be detachment, coldness or maybe... Superman gently pushed his wife away. She slapped him hard and his cheek tingled. Kal reminds himself he can be harmed in dreams.

"When will you stop denying it? Don't you see it isn't fair to me, yourself or him?", a mad Lois screamed at Kal. Bruce slithered back to the shadow that beckons him without a backward glance. Kal doesn't know if he should pursue Bruce or finish the conversation with Lois. "I love you Lois. Why would you doubt it?", an ashamed looking Kal muttered back.

Lois smiled a painful smile and said sarcastically, "You love me because I am strong, passionate and kind. He is stronger, more passionate and kinder. This is a competition I won, nonetheless it is as if I never won". Shut up Lois, Superman thought angrily, I chose you. Why are you mad?

An anvil fell from ceiling to the spot where Lois was standing. Superman glared at the anvil, as if he could burn it down, and sighed. Why can't I get what I want?

Clark woke on the couch. His wife had banished him there since the disastrous Caribbean vacation. He still had not received any reason why she was so mad. He secretly hoped she didn't think like Dream Lois had thought. He loved her and Diana more than he loved Bruce. Lois was his present, Diana was his future. He could only have Bruce in dreams, couldn't they all butt out of his dreams and leave him be? Despite what Dream Lois had claimed, Dream Diana had been right; he had chosen Lois and Diana, not Bruce.


	9. Seventh Dream-Icy Burial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal looks for answers and he doesn't like what he gets.

“Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.”  
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

"Kal, why did you come here tonight?", The Jor El computer asks him. Kal looks at the face replicating his father and ponders how insane it is he is considering asking his father some relationship advice from a Dream version of an AI in the North Pole. 

"Father, could you talk about mom?", he says, watching the hologram stop everything to fix his eyes on him. The hologram sighs, "You have something on your mind, son? Is it about Lois?"

Kal wants to say a simple yes, yet he hesitates. Jor El waits patiently as Krypto comes bounding in, accidentally breaking a wall, bathound on his tail. Jor El raises his eyebrow, "What is that doing in here?" Kal smiles, "Krypto needed company". 

"Yes, but why a pterodactyl? Something similar to that hunted dogs on Krypton, you know." 

Kal turns again and Krypto is now Brainiac while bathound is now an enormous pterodactyl flying toward him. "Your brain is mine", Brainiac menaces. Kal knows nothing can hurt him here so he grows bored of the two new intruders and continues the conversation, "Father, how did you know mom was the one for you?".

Jor El's eyes glaze over while the computer's defenses attack Brainiac and the noisy birdish dinosaur, "She wasn't exactly the one for me". 

"What do you mean?", Kal pursues as his legs sink into the floor, as if in a sandtrap. Jor El tells his story, "On Krypton, there was a pre-establish system determining who would be each other's mate. It was determined would be fulfilled with another. I chose Lara anyway. She also chose me. I never gave my predestined love a chance, since Lara made me happy". Kal tries to assimilate the information. The pterodactyl's annoying noises have finally ceased as he lay dead bleeding all over the floor. Kal idly wonders whether the Fortress's systems will be able to clean it up before it starts to smell. 

"Why the question, Kal?", his father kindly prods. Kal opens his mouth, closes it and opens it again, "Is it possible to love more than one person at once?" 

Jor El's face grew somber at the question, "Yes. You mother loved the system's choice and me. It is not with whom you fall in love that is more important, it is the choice you make". Brainiac lays destroyed beside the pterodactyl. There are no sound greeting Jor El's statement. 

"Father. I chose Lois for now. I chose Diana for later".

A hint of sadness fell on the hologram, "I'm sorry to hear it, son. She might not be alive later. You might not be alive later". 

This was the hard part, Kal thought, "I made peace with the possibility. No, the problem is something else. I love another." 

Kal hears the hologram work it through. The ice making the Fortress starts dripping on Superman. Damn it! Superman normally has enough time to save everyone, but he cannot stop the dream from going onward. He has calculated he needed about two hours of sleep each night and it takes about ninety minutes to go into deep sleep, meaning Superman does not have a lot of time to wait for answers. He knows it will take some time to get this perfect setup again. 

"Kal, you love three different persons?", his father's hologram asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

"I do. I also loved others, yet never with the same intensity. I love those three more than anyone else, except Martha", Kal continues as almost all the ceiling of the Fortress had become icy water submerging him to his knees. 

"What do you want me to say, son?", the wise remnant of his father asks. 

"Is there a way for this to end well for me? Isn't there a way for me to be with all of them?"

Kal sees the blurry image of a red bird encased in ice floating toward him, "I know I am being selfish. But, father, I want them all", he practically begs, knowing there will be no miraculous solution, yet wishing anyway. 

Jor El's face becomes Joker, "Tiiiime's up! Oh, so you want them all! Ah, keep your hawkish reporter and your man-hating amazon, the Bat is mine!"

Kal's eyes pierced him with laser, nothing doing, small images of Joker appear dancing clumsily on the surface of the icy water. The Fortress was almost all melted away. 

"Soooo, Superman is really a pervert wanting the big bad vigilante as a side to his Amazing amazons dish? Oho, you're being a naughty boy, Big Guy. I think I'll give you a early present".

Kal notes he cannot move his legs nor his arms. One small image of Joker winks and throws a dead cat to his face. The burned fur smell fill up his nose. Joker is fake, Kal thinks as he closes his eyes, he is part of what my subconscious self wants to show me. Ignore him. "You think I'll just go? Ah, you want Bats here? I'll have him outside, the real deal. He's probably rushing to stop me from killing some sheep. You know, I already know how I will kill him. I also know when I'll do it", the Joker whispers almost lovingly in his ear.

"You don't want to kill him", Kal angrily mutters.

"Well, no, but one day I will, because then, he'll always be mine. In Life and in death! A truer love than your simple 'until death' vows! But then, my love is so much trueeeer than yours!"

Then, the encased Kal saw the Jokers morphed into a wolfish Ra's Al Ghul's face, Batman kneeling in front of him, cowl off with a red hooded cape draping his shoulders where a black cape should have been, a strange juxtaposition of the little red riding hood and a knight. "Bruce", Kal whimpers, feeling his heart beating out to him while he drowns in the icy water (ice?). "Batman", Ra's face intones, "You have made your Mission your life. I can offer you immortality, my kingdom, my daughter and grandson. You can finally be an eternal change for good, a beaming light for generations to come and... be happy. Have the family you have lost far too young if you will only revoke your oath". Batman bravely faces him, eyes narrowing on the face, his hands still on his knee, "I have so sworn, Ra's. Nothing you nor anyone else can do will stop it". Ra's smiles in a wolfish fashion, eyes turning to face directly Kal. "Not even him?", he asks with irony. Batman never acknowledges Kal nor does he hesitate, "No". The lone word feels like a lance piercing through Kal, pining him to a wall to leave him to die. He cries his agony, under Ra's scrutiny. Batman stands up and walks away, disappearing in a blood like darkness.

"Don't be sad, Kal", he hears Diana's voice. Then, Lois cards his hair, talking in Diana's voice, saying her words, "You knew Jor couldn't save you. You knew you chose us. You knew Bruce was lost long before he met you, long before Joker and Ra's tried to corrupt him. You know that love is destined to be betrayed over and over, like the robins that keep dying over and over as sacrifices to his Mission... Some things are ineluctable even for someone who has the power to change the world. Time for you to wake up, love". Lois kisses tenderly on his forehead and licks his tears sensually.

Clark wakes up and walks into his and his wife's bedroom with her sleeping peacefully alone. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at her sleep. "I'm sorry I worry you, Lois. I truly am", he whispers tenderly, hoping no teardrop will fall this time. He wants to touch her tenderly, as she had done in his dream, to reassure her he is still here with her, yet he cannot do it. The dreams are just dreams, nonetheless the damages done by Bruce's word linger far longer than dreams do...


	10. Eight Dream-Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark is a prisoner at Belle-Reve or is he?

“The imaginary is what tends to become real.”  
― André Breton

The eyeless judge read the following verdict, "You, Clark Joseph Kent, are found guilty of being a danger to yourself and others. For the good of society, you will be locked up at Belle-Reve for ten years. No parole may be granted until the fifth year". 

Clark's lawyer, Lois Lane, stands up: "Your Honor! My client has been making much more good than bad. He saved the world times and times again and he has been the benefactor of thousands of people. Your sentence goes against basic principle of justice and human rights!". 

The eyeless man raises an eyebrow, "Miss Lane, I suggest you take your seat if you do not want to be charge with contempt of the courts. As for your client's ethics, you have previously made your case in his favor. Unfortunately, he tried to commit suicide and three hundred-forty-seven persons he could have otherwise saved died by his criminal negligence". 

Lois put her hands on the table, "Your Honor, my client is mentally unwell and needs therapy. He suffers from a severe case of PTSD, anxiety disorders and self esteem issues. he needs help, not more persecution and prison!".

The judge waves his hand toward Clark, "Police officers, arrest this man who thinks himself above the law and put in into Belle-Reve where he belongs". 

Lois embraces her husband and caresses his back, "Clark, I swear I'll get you out... Don't let them break you". Her hands are pried off the Kryptonite manacles and orange clad inmate. As he is dragged away, he hears her yell, "I love you, Clark! Don't break!". 

Then Clark is alone in a Belle-Reve prison, nobody around. He already touched the bars and had to draw it back; the cell is made of Green Kryptonite, the ceiling giving off red light, incapacitating him further. This is a dream, yet Clark doesn't mind the quiet. He lowers himself in the simple bed, looking up at the ceiling, unperturbed. Just as he is on the verge of falling asleep, he hears a voice, "Well, have you looked into the subconscious self issue I mentioned some time ago?"

Clark looks up and sees Bruce wearing a white t-shirt with Wonder Woman's symbol, snug jeans and designer sunglasses, "Do you really need to wear sunglasses inside?". 

Bruce grins a suave smile, "The red light is carcinogenic. You can't get cancer, but I have to be careful". Clark glares at him, "No, you are in a dream". Bruce snorts, crossing his arms on his chest, "So? You are the one making the rules here. I am not getting cancer because of my carelessness". The red lights turn purple and green, giving a strange hue of surrealist to the scene, now Bruce is walking closer on the ceiling, Clark floating where the bed had been. 

Bruce sighs, "I thought you wanted to speak to me, Kal. I've been trying to help you". Clark turns around to face the wall. Unfortunately for him, the wall became a mirror in which Bruce is always placed at the center. Clark says to the mirror, "You are not Bruce". Bruce smiles, walking toward him yet the ceiling keeps him rooted at the same place, "Of course, I'm not him. I'm your subconscious self's security system and my job is to stop you from crashing his work".

Clark punches the mirror, and it breaks in thousands of pieces, yet in all of them, Bruce looks back at him with an easy smile. Clark hides his face, "Why do you take his face?" 

Bruce appears sitting on the invisible bed, leaning backward, on Clark's left, almost touching him with his legs, "You tell me". Clark moves away, still trying to avoid facing the man, "Batman is the most cautious person I know. I know I can entrust my life to him and, lately, I always think of him". Then Clark feels Bruce's hand on his cheek, warm and comforting, "I'm the closest to him you'll get here. I am part of your memories, your thoughts and your hopes. My touch is exactly the same as the one he gave you back then". Clark feels himself burn up at the reference and sits up straight on the invisible bed, turning with a frown on his subconscious self's security system. Any of the angry words he had prepared about his system using that memory against him died when he saw Bruce looking intensively at him from behind his sunglasses. 

"Take the sunglasses off", Clark orders Bruce. His best friend smirks, "If I take them off, will you listen to me and not invent new distractions, Clark?". His name is pronounced with irony that Clark prefer to ignore, "Fine". Bruce takes them off and his deep piercing eyes now paralyzes Superman, a blue so deep Kal feels like drowning there just to always be with him. 

"You are not letting your subconscious self deal with many things since your obsession with Bruce. For example, you and Lois are presently discussing having a child. All your traumas, fears, hopes and memories about Kon-El and your two sets of parents concerning child-rearing have not been dealt with. Although you do deal in some way with Robins and their deaths, you feel Bruce's sadness and despair of losing over and over his children and it does not help you process child-rearing. You have to deal with the rest of your fears, passions and traumas, Clark. At least in here". 

During all of Bruce's serious discourse, Clark senses his best friend's beating heart, studies his long eyelashes and stares at his lips with obvious desire. Bruce snaps his fingers in front of Clark as if to wake him up, "Clark?, I need you to focus. You are putting your whole being at risk here".

"Bruce, I love you", a trance like Clark declares softly, his hand carding delicately Bruce's hair, as if Bruce was made of fragile glass. His Bruce raises an eyebrow, far from impressed by the confession, "You do realize I am part of your subconscious self, right?". Clark licks Bruce's ear, "You told me you were the most alike here to Bruce. I'll take what I can". Bruce whispers in Clark's ear, making him blush, "Since it seems like I'm my own worst distraction, let's get this over with so I can bore you to death discussing your mental health issues during the afterglow".

Clark pushes Bruce back and a king size bed reappears under them, "Can you just let me make love to you without any sarcastic comments?". Bruce grins at him, his hand caressing Clark's neck and slowly going lower.

Clark swats his hand with a snarl and leans just an inch off Bruce's face, "You never do that!". Bruce laughs at that, "So, you'll use your recollection of all of my escapades you spied on, just for the sake of veracity? You do know it is unethical and ungentlemanly to peek while I have sex", he finishes with a wink. Clark kisses his best friend with relish, making the kiss last until Bruce needs air so he'll shut up. Again, as they separate, a wry comment is made, "I don't breathe here, Clark". The journalist is starting to get annoyed by the comments, "You are careful of cancer, why don't you breathe?". Bruce grins, lightly touching Clark's lips with his fingers, "I don't follow rules, because I'm your subconscious". The journalist is officially irritated at his friend's antics.

Then Bruce turns them over, "Oh, and you might prefer topping, but from your own observance, Bruce is always on top of things". Clark frowns, "He only dates women!". Bruce nods thoughtfully, "So?", his hands slipping under Clark's orange inmate shirt. The hard hands massaging his muscle make Clark forget the sharp replies he was thinking of. He flinches under the soft hands on his ribs.

"Stop it, Bruce! It tickles", he almost moans to his best friend. Bruce snarks, "It is not the only effect it has, it seems", his hands moving up to Clark's nipples, teasingly touching them. Just when Clark was really getting into it, eyes closed, his breathing heavy, his body yearning the touch, he hears Bruce continue, "As I was saying, you need to let your subconscious self work, so relax and let me do my job".

Clark opens his eyes to stare at Bruce, a remonstrance on his lips, before he feels soft and wet explore his navel, "Bruce, you have to stop talking about work when you do this to me". He sees Bruce's eyes gleam, then his hands are ghosting his penis, never quite frankly touching. Nonetheless, Clark feels his blood rush to the danger zone. Then, out of nowhere, Bruce stops his tongue thing and grips him. Clark grasps, observing in some out of body sort of way, his clothes had disappeared and Bruce's t'shirt now has the Flash symbol on it. "Clark", Bruce starts with obvious mischief twinkling in his eyes, "I know what you want, what you need...", while his lips lean closer to Clark's genitals, the soft wind from his nostril arousing Clark further. 

"Then do it!", Clark all but yells. Bruce raises his hands and crosses them on his chest, "No". Clark feels confusion and betrayal, "But you told me we'd do it!". Then, Bruce puts his sunglasses on, seating back comfortably on the bed, "I did, but I also lie sometimes, you know. Besides, there is no point in having sex with you if you won't let me finish my speech about you and your subconscious self". Bruce says with an almost pout on his face. Clark straightens up, anger burning, "You riled me up, just to blackmail me? I would have had to listen to it anyway after!"

Bruce tilts his head, "No, you wouldn't. You would have made sure to wake beforehand". Clark almost felt bad for having had no intention of listening to Bruce's chatter about subconscious and work, then, he remembered it was himself he was lying to, he didn't feel so bad.

"Come on, Bruce, I promise to listen to you if you let us finish this". Bruce smirks at that comment, "Do you know that sex with me is basically part of your brain having sex with another part of your brain?". Clark hits his hands on his forehead, frustration in his tone, "Seriously? You are so immature, so I guess I should just wake up now".

"Really?", Bruce growls predatory out, his shirt now adorned with Aquaman's symbol, "Even if I'll kiss you if you listen to a tiny bit more?". Clark should just wake up. "Fine, say it".

Bruce whispers, "You have most symptoms of a big mental health problem. If either J'onn J'onzz or Bruce approaches you in real life to discuss your behavior, promise me you'll go see a therapist". Clark is confused, "Why those two? And aren't you an hypocrite to suggest a therapist?". Bruce takes off his sunglasses, blue eyes simmering with fun, "The first wants to respect everyone's space so much he'll wait until it really becomes a problem and the second one hates discussing emotions so much he'll wait until he feels he has no choices. And thank God, I'm your subconscious, not Bruce's. My job is hard enough as it is". Suddenly, Bruce's mouth is on Clark's, tongue expertly exploring Clark's mouth. Clark closes his eyes, enjoying the arousal slowly coming back.

Clark senses Bruce standing up, his hand patting his head once, "There, it wasn't so bad, was it, Clark?". A moment of silence follows with one last comment, "Oh, and, Clark, just to let you know, it seems you developed a kink with me bloodied up and being own by members of the Justice League".

When Clark opens his eyes, he is in bed with his wife after their fragile reconciliation. It is true he wants a baby with her, but, damn, he still felt cheated out of his sex with Bruce in his dream...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never like to write smut or sex scene (except the humor parts). Hope this wasn't so bad.


	11. Ninth Dream-Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman is not superman, nor Kal, nor Clark. (best way I could summarize it)
> 
> Probably the weirdest dream Kal has had until now.

“We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.”  
\- May Sarton

 

There was nothing quite as beautiful as Earth, or so he had thought. He had never felt as powerless as now. 

He knew he was a worm wiggling in the earth, almost getting drowned by water. He couldn't see or smell; he was all touch against the stones, the sandy earth he was eating and regurgitating. He thought simple thoughts on survival. There was no love, no social norms. Just life and death at its simplest. He was drowning because of raindrops, something else absolutely necessary for the Earth's continued existence. He was dying.

Then, he was a seagull flying low over a beach, looking for human junk food. A robin attacked him, breaking a wing with his beak. Then, he was falling to his death. This time, his thought process was complex enough for him to think at least it was beautiful, the rainy sky above him, that same rainy sky he would normally see from above the clouds.

He was the whale protecting his child, nurturing him, helping him become his legacy to the world. He was happy giving his milk to his youngling, felt prouder than for any of his previous achievements. Whale hunters came along. He tried to chase them away. They would come back with the tide, always more eager than before to eat, to take the fat for heating purposes. Then, they killed his child. He should have been mad and murdered them for stopping his gift to the world from being given. But this was also nature. So he mourned his lost child and continued living. Until he was beached one day. He couldn't breathe. Humans were trying to help him go back to the ocean. He was grateful, still he knew his body was giving away before it they would make it. So he thought of his child, the one who didn't live long enough to replace him. The one he had loved with all his heart. At least, his heart wouldn't hurt anymore. Despite the humans' efforts, he died excruciatingly, slowly dying because of his own weight. 

Now, he was a primate looking for a mate. He knew the ways he should do it, but he was nervous. She was so gorgeous and he wasn't. Maybe she wouldn't accept his love offerings. She accepted them! He was jubilant, screaming while making little fist's moves. They lived together, in their little clan, and life was good for him. He had five younglings with his chosen, each special in his own way. A sickness touched them all. His children all died, dried up and suffering, and she did too. He cried their deaths. He knew he couldn't hunt for food anymore. Another way to die. This time, he could almost imagine there was something after this. That is was but a chapter in his life. 

He was an alien with seven tentacles, making war for possessions. He was their leader in this charge for each charge had a new leader. They won, so they sent the bodies in an acidic substance, taking the illhnm and celebrating the victory with his wifes and husbands. The whole clan came together. This was their chances to make history, to cheat death. They wrote their story. When it was time to die, he felt satisfied he left something for his children to remember him after he joined the dark testers in their wisdom seeking quests. 

He was a quiet soul, following the words of a merciful God. Save this person, take this person's soul. He was at peace with himself, always completing his tasks to perfection. God was there for him, everything had a meaning. Then, he heard one child's scream and nothing made sense anymore. He consulted God with his compassion. God said it was freedom. That made him think he was also free of making a choice. He could stay here forever... or not. He was beloved by God, so He didn't see it coming when he assembled a force to take Heaven over. He tried, but he was defeated by another strong soul. Freedom meant he could lose his way and regret it forever. And so he did. His soul died. His existence kept going on as he wasn't just a soul, now that he was tainted, condemned to be tainted forever. So he waited salvation. It never came.

Clark woke up with his wife in his arms. He cuddled closer. His dream must have a meaning. But, it was strange, in all parts of his dreams, he was happy of being who he was: a worm, a seagull, a whale, a primate, an weird looking alien and a quiet soul. His lack of death in the last part had been the worst part of them all. He quietly shivered.


	12. Tenth Dream-Pull Hitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream inspired by a Justice League Cartoon episode...

“To be haunted is to glimpse a truth that might best be hidden.”  
― James Herbert, Haunted

 

Clark was keeping the cap low on his head to avoid the sun's glare. "So, are you okay, there, Clark?", a pleasant voice asks him. 

"You?", he answers back. His friend leans back with a grin, "Well, afterlife is kinda nice, not that you wouldn't know". 

Clark lowers his head to look at the baseball match playing down in the stadium. "Wait, you don't remember what happened to you when you died?", Barry says, accidentally bumping in the person at his right, the person moving too slow to notice it. 

"I don't", Clark observes the game's action, everyone is in slow-motion except for Barry and him. 

"That's too bad", his friend ends. They sit in silence watching the ball moving so slowly in the air it barely seems to be moving. 

"So, why did you call me?", The blond asks. Clark sighs, "I didn't call you. Apparently, my subconscious conjured you to confront my fears or something". 

"That's... kind of a bleak view of dreams, Clark. Since when did you become such a pessimist?"

"I've always been a pessimist, I've just pretended to be an optimist, since Superman has to be perfect", Clark pronounces, still nursing his cold beer. 

Barry laughs, "Superman doesn't have to be perfect. You want him to be perfect. And you have the gall to blame Bruce of being the League's perfectionist", he says, taking off Clark's hat playfully and looking at him. 

"No more deflections, Clark, why did you call me here? What is wrong?", the speedster pursue relentlessly, watching Clark and not the ball falling oh-so-slowly. 

Clark didn't look once at his friend. He sighs, "Well, I guess even if you are my subconscious, it is much better talking to you than to nobody". 

Barry just shakes his head with a smile, "You seem obsess with your subconscious for some reason or another". 

Clark smiles wryly, "Oh, he seems obsess about me". 

"Not that your talk about subconscious and dreams aren't fascinating, but you did call me. Is it about Lois? Do you have kids? How is the League?" 

"No, no and fine, I guess?", Clark settles back in his seat, eyes still fixed on the ball. 

"Then?"

Clark sighs even more loudly, "I don't know. Do you sometimes feel as if you don't belong in this world? In one aspect, you were like me, everyone in the world is too slow to keep up with you. Me? The world is too slow and too fragile for me. I fear I could destroy what I love just by using normal strength, that I could live without meeting anyone I love because they are too slow. Because they'll die too soon". 

Barry sits in silence for some time, absorbing what his friend is telling him, finally looking at the ball, "I did have nightmares about me living too quickly my life. Know what I did?"

For the first time since the start of the conversation, Clark looks at him, hopeful, "No. What did you do?"

Barry studies him seriously, "I gave myself reasons to be kept grounded". 

Clark turns his head to the ball again, obviously distraught. 

"Cheer up Clark, Lois was great at doing that, and so was League".

Clark murmurs, "Even Bruce?"

That makes Barry laugh, "Oh Bruce, he's really unforgettable with his gruffness hiding his golden heart. He thinks we don't know!"

A corner of Clark's lips tug up fondly, "He does". He hears nothing from the speedster for a while. He turns his head to see the speedster observing him seriously. 

"It was a pretext", the blond declares. 

"What?"

"Your nightmares of the world being too weak, too fragile and too ephemeral. You really wanted to speak to me about someone", Barry says, looking straight into Clark's eyes. 

Clark feels himself flush red, avoiding his friend's stare, "No..."

"You don't react to mentions of Lois but you do to Bruce's name. Why did you call me Clark? Be truthful this time".

Clark takes time to gather his courage. He passes his nervous tongue over his lips, "For some time... I thought there was something between Hal and you". 

Barry seems pensive, waiting for more. 

"You ended up with Iris, but am I wrong in thinking there was something between the two of you?"

Barry sighs, "Of course, you have to ask the hard questions... I don't know. I only sensed something changed with Hal after Iris, but maybe he had loved me since the beginning. I honestly don't know".

Clark appears crestfallen, "You didn't love him like that?"

Barry offers him a pitiful smile, "No". 

Clark turns to the ball, still falling. 

"But you love Bruce, Clark, don't you?", Barry's soft voice whispers with a great depth of understanding and gentleness. 

Clark can't even deny it. 

"There is nothing wrong with loving someone, Clark, so stop torturing yourself over it".

Clark puts his hands in his face, "But I'm greedy... I want him too. Not just him". Clark feels an arm around his shoulders and he leans toward Barry, "You are as human as the rest of us, Clark. Don't ever feel ashamed of your feelings". 

Clark gulps, "You don't have some wise quote to resolve everything?"

He looks up to see Barry smile wistfully, "We are humans. Not everything gets resolved. I worked with forensics my whole life and there was many cases we didn't crack".

Clark turns to see the ball almost touching the ground and whines, "But I want it to be resolved". 

He hears Barry say, "Good luck, Clark. I have to go, now. It was nice talking to you", as the ball hits the ground. 

 

Clark wakes up, almost sensing a lingering touch on his shoulders as he lay on his side in bed. He closes his eyes. Barry has been dead a long time now. He should probably visit his grave. Maybe with Hal?


	13. Intermission-When the Dreams End part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT A DREAM.
> 
> Clark goes to see Barry's headstone with Hal and J'onn J'onzz speaks with Clark.

“He was both everything I could ever want…  
And nothing I could ever have…”  
― Ranata Suzuki

The sky was slowly darkening and the trees, whispering wise words no one could understand. The cemetery hill loomed over the trees, prominent in its own importance, never doubting it held secrets humans would never know.

Hal looked sad and strangely frustrated staring at Barry's headstone. Clark touched his shoulder delicately, "Hal". 

"Why did you invite me here, Clark?", Hal muttered out, still not looking at him.

Clark was silent, uncertain how to talk about the matter. Hal wasn't one for patience, he turned on Superman, Clark's hand dropping from his shoulder, eyes suspicious, "What do you want to say, Big Guy?"

"How do you cope with his death?", Clark finally whispered back, waving an hand towards the headstone. Hal crossed his hands and stared at him, "I drink myself to death, is that what you are implying?". Clark can't face Hal's anger directly, so he looked at the headstone, "No, I want to ask, how do you cope with losing the one you loved?".

Clark knows he messed up as he hears Hal stomping away. He tried again, "Wait Hal! I'm sorry it sounded so wrong. I mean, how can you go on?".

Hal stopped walking, turned around, walked up to Clark until he is clearly in his space, "You just carry on. Now, tell me why you are asking all those questions. This can't be idle curiosity".

Clark swallowed. He didn't want to tell the truth, for he had confined it to his mind, never to disturb his outward behavior. But Hal needed some kind of truth before he would answer so he opened his mouth and out came, "I'm scared, Hal. I'm scared of having a kid, of losing him, of losing Lois". He could see Hal relaxed a bit, not understanding Clark had meant Bruce, not his kid. Hal puts his hand on Clark's shoulder, mirroring Clark's previous move of comfort, "Barry was everything I wanted and nothing I could ever get. I was lucky he was my friend. You are lucky Lois is your wife. You have more than I ever got".

Clark wanted to respond, but he couldn't let the secret out. Couldn't tell Hal he loved Lois, Diana and Bruce and he couldn't have the three of them in his lifetime. So he nodded wisely and Hal patted his shoulder, inviting him to a drink at a bar. Clark accepted. He owed Hal that at the very least.

A bit later in the evening, Superman went to check in the Watchtower for some information. Superman was gliding in the Watchtower for the first time in a long time when he heard J'onn's mental call, "Superman? Do you have a moment to speak with me?".

Superman dutifully went to meet him, "J'onn, you wanted to see me?"

J'onn turned from the empty space outside to look at him, "Old friend. Would you like some tea?".

Superman nodded, well aware tea was J'onn's way of integrating with humans, of putting someone at ease before attending to a task he hated to undertake.

Superman sat and immediately asked, "What is wrong, J'onn?"

J'onn took his time studying Superman, "You are distracted lately, Superman. Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing too unusual, J'onn. Lois and I are thinking of having a child", Superman regurgitated calmly.

J'onn merely poured some tea and waited.

He knew something, Superman thought, I have to know what he knows.

"Why do you think something is wrong with me?", Superman asked.

J'onn looked at him in the eyes, "There are many issues with your behavior of late".

"Such as?", Superman prodded, trying to sound nonchalent.

"Your mind is projecting a variety of emotions everywhere at all times. You avoided Diana one week and Hal one week without having had a fight. Moreover...", J'onn stops himself at that interesting junction.

"Moreover?", Superman prompted, leaning forward despite himself.

"You are frustrating Batman with your behavior".

Superman thought he had acted normally lately and he told J'onn so. J'onn observed him a long time, "I am not forcing you to answer why Superman, but you are in obvious distress and everyone is feeling your lack of focus and strange behavior, but none more so than Batman".

"What did I do?", Superman finally asked, dreading this moment.

"You are acting very close to him, almost clingy, for some time, then you distanced yourself from him without telling him anything. You have been doing that on and off for months now. Bruce is sure you are mad at him for something, yet you won't tell him why".

Kal felt his heart speed up, "And what do you think, J'onn?"

J'onn eyed him over the steaming tea, "You are not mad at him".

Kal is frustrated; talking to J'onn is sometimes more infuriating than talking to Batman, "Then, what is wrong with me?"

J'onn took his tea cup in his hand, "I do not pry into business that is not mine".

"Then, why are you talking to me, now?"

"You are the leader of the Justice League. You are driving Bruce insane with guilt. All the others members are also being affected. I want you to fix this situation".

Kal hated J'onn's wisdom at that moment, "According to you, it is my fault the Justice League is experiencing difficulties, not anyone else's". J'onn lifted an eyebrow at Kal's vindictive tone. Kal didn't care anymore, "It's always Superman that has to act as the glue to this group, salvaging interpersonal relations, because Bruce can't be expected to be human! I'm the alien and I'm the one solving relationship issues!". Kal's voice is dangerously uncontrolled and angry.

J'onn sipped his tea, "Your tea is getting cold, Superman".

But, Kal has had enough, he floated outside without acknowledging J'onn's presence. He went to Antarctica to break some icebergs with his fists to vent out his frustration. After a while, he stopped. He sat cross-legged on the cold ice, leaning back on the icy wall and thought, "J'onn knows. I didn't want anyone to know... That was why it was only supposed to happen in my dreams... This is bad".

He puts an hand to his forehead, "What do I do?"


	14. Eleventh Dream-Carnage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman may be suffering from PTSD...

“War is what happens when language fails.”

-Margaret Atwood

It smelled like blood. 

Normally, there was no smell in dreams, but this time, it was overpowering for Superman. Blood. Human blood and guts overflowing everywhere. He was standing in a field of blood and bodies spayed around, smoke drifting about. It smelled like war, not like the civil concept of nobles of old age, where loyalty and dignity meant something. This was killing for simple killing. 

Superman floated above the see of men and women murdering one another with knifes, guns and anything else imaginable while screaming obscenities. Why? Why did they do it? Kryptonians were not this savage against one another. Superman couldn't understand and he couldn't save them from themselves. Oh, he could knock everyone out. Yet, when they would wake up, they would start all over again, each trying to rip the others apart. This was endless, Superman knew. 

Then, he noticed Bruce. It is always extraordinary how Superman could recognize him in a crowd of people. Matches, Bruce or Batman couldn't really hide from Superman. 

This Bruce was a child soldier, about fifteen years old, carrying an army gun, drenched in blood and guts, camouflage enough for the scene. 

"Bruce, what are you doing here?", Superman asked the boy as he floated to his side. 

The boy glared at him as well as Batman could do to Superman on a good day, "I'm going to stop this", the boy snarled back. 

Superman had seen how large the field of killings went and knew this was impossible. Bruce didn't look impressed at his obvious lack of faith, "This war killed my parents. I'm going to kill this war". 

Kal thought the boy was foolish, still he didn't have the heart to tell him so, "How are you going to do it, Bruce?"

The boy looked at the people dying around him, "You'll arrive like an angel from the sky, trumpets and all, and say some higher powers has sent you to save them. That they would be save if they stop killing, for killing is the greatest sin". 

"But that's a lie"

The boy with the shadowed eyes snorted, "Humanity needs lies to keep going, Kal. I thought you of all people knew that".

Superman shook his head, "I won't tell them that lie".

Bruce shook his head, blood dripping from his bandanna,"Fine". He continued toward the throng of murdering people.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm going to stop it. I'll tackle people, tie them up and convince them to stop".

"That's pointless, Bruce. It won't work".

Bruce threw him a last glare, "I convinced some kids to help me. We'll stop this", then he jumped in the chaos and started beating people around. Superman watched him stop two people.

"How do you think this war started, Smallville?", a young voice asked in Superman's ear. He turned to see soot covered teenager Lois writing something in her notepad.

Clark sighed, "Does it matter?"

One of Lois's hand was limp yet she was working with passion, "Truth matters. We can change things with it. We owe to ourselves to find it".

"It doesn't matter. Humans wrought destruction wherever they go. That's all the truth that matters".

Lois shoved him, angrily continuing, " Why do you think I always search for the truth? It matters and it is powerful, Smallville, never forget it".

Clark fell in a crowd. He heard them say, "Save us. Heal us. Save us", while they were trying to rip him apart to own a some part of him.

Clark put his hands on his head, "Stop! Stop it! I can't save you all".

The faceless humans hold him down, babbling a litany, "No, you are our Saviour. Save us. We need you. We are dying. My daughter is dead. I am blind. Save us, Superman".

Superman used his laser vision to burn them all up, "Enough!". It smelled burned flesh as he stands up, wandering on guts and blood, his hands now bloodied.

"Finally showing your true color, Superman?", immaculate Lex asked from his comfortable seat overseeing the massacre with a grin.

"Lex..."

"Look! They wait for a savior and you murder them! Didn't I tell you you were humankind's biggest threat?", the villain proclaimed waving to the scene enfolding everywhere.

"Lex, humans are humankind's biggest threat!"

Lex smirked, "See? You think you should eliminate humans. You think you are better. You are not. You are an alien silently planning our destruction".

"Shut up!", Superman burned Lex to the ground. He looked at the burned remains of his former friend. He wanted to regurgitate. He closed his eyes and he could still smell death and devastation.

Someone shook him and he woke up beside Lois. "What is wrong, Clark?", she asked worried. Clark trembled, "I saw the world burn". His wife soothed him with a quiet touch, "Everything is fine, Clark". He hugged her back, desperately hoping it was true. He knew she was his rock to humanity. He needed her, he thought as he hold her as if she was his savior or treasure. He couldn't let her go.


	15. Cutting Through the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT A DREAM.

“The only real battle in life is between hanging on and letting go.”  
― Shannon L. Alder

 

Superman was not ready for this. He could never be ready. He swallowed hard.

This was their monthly meeting and, for once, everyone was here. To his right, Diana sat pensively. Flash and Hal sat on her other side, one with too much energy, the other bored to death. Aquaman, Hawkgirl and J'onn were also there. Bruce sat to his left, close enough for Clark to grasp his hand with a mere flick of his hand.

They had discussed the Matik invasion, their emergency response process, the new threat in the oceans and the recurring complaints from the United Nations. They had gone through all the point on the agenda, still Kal could feel the weighing stare of both Batman and J'onn, one analyzing his actions and tension, the other hoping he would finally make his move. 

"Is there any other subject we should broach before we adjourn this meeting?", Diana finally asked. For a moment, nothing was said and Green Lantern was stretching as if this was the end of the meeting. 

Clark could feel Bruce's pointed stare on him, could feel his soft breathe. Superman stood up. Everyone except J'onn and Batman looked surprised at this action. 

"I have something to tell all of you", Kal started slowly, his hands almost shaking on the table. 

"You may speak your mind Superman", Diana said. Batman was silent at his side.

Kal took a hold of Diana's lasso and said, "I can't work efficiently with Batman anymore". 

This was the only time Kal had seen J'onn, Aquaman, Hawkgirl, Flash, Diana and Hal speechless at the same time. But he had been concentrating on Bruce and Bruce was not surprised. He was drained and worn out. Not surprised. 

Bruce said tiredly, as if he had grown 40 years older in one moment, "I understand". The vigilante stood up and stared in Clark's eyes a moment. There was no blame, no pain in his eyes, only quiet understanding and acceptance. Then again, Bruce never liked to show pain and weakness to others. Clark sat down with humility.

Batman turned his attention to the rest of the table, "I, Batman, resign from all my positions in the Justice League, including secretary to the meetings and member, effective now". At those words, the man proudly marched off the room, not glancing at Superman's pained expression. Batman knew him too well. He knew this was the reaction Superman had wanted and he had given it to him willingly.

After a moment, J'onn stood and followed Bruce, probably to say his goodbyes or try and change his mind. Kal heard J'onn say mentally, "This was not what I meant when I say you had to take care of the matter". Kal silently sent back the message, "I know, friend. Thank you for your concern and advice". J'onn nodded and exited, sad.

Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Hal and Flash all stared at Kal or the door. Diana was fuming beside him. He knew she wouldn't take it well. 

Hal was the first to speak, "Okay, care to tell us what this was about, Superman?". There was surprise, anger and confusion in his voice. 

Kal still looked at the door, forcing himself not to eavesdrop nor look through the structures to see Batman, "Does it matter?", he said wistfully. 

Hawkgirl and Aquaman exited the room after some more staring, neither understanding what had happened. Kal could hear the other three think through the scenario. 

Flash's face was soft anguish and Kal's heart lurched. It seemed Flash's intuition had made him understand the gist of the matter. He and J'onn knew. Kal was already too late it seems.

Hal was looking increasingly frustrated as he stood up, "Yeah, you have your own little language. So, of course, I'm just supposed to accept you kicked Bruce out of the Justice League on a whim?". Wally answered in Kal's place in a subdue manner, "He didn't kick him out. Bruce resigned". 

Hal snorted, "Of course he did. Superman is the strongest member. Bruce wouldn't have accepted Superman's resignation so he resigned. But you", he said, pointing at Superman, "said that on purpose". 

Kal answered, still looking at the door, "It was the truth". And it was. No one could deny it. Hal exited with disgust and Flash slowly walked out, glancing once at Superman, pity in his kind eyes. 

Kal had never wanted pity. Diana wouldn't give him any.

Her eyes were burning holes through him and her voice was hard, "You used my lasso of truth as a tool to hurt Bruce".

Superman couldn't avoid her so he finally stopped looking at the door to turn to her, "I did".

She stood up, towering Superman, still glowering at him. "WHY?" she spat with resentment.

Superman had always loved Diana and her straightforwardness, her desire for truth.

His last dream had given him the idea of using truth to solve the problem between Bruce and himself. Diana didn't understand truth was one of the biggest weapons one could use against Bruce, which was why Bruce had always been wary of the Lasso of truth. He didn't want to tell the truth, so he would suffer others' truth, as he had just now. He had accepted Clark's truth without batting an eye. Had accepted to disappear, to be less than what he was worthy of.

Clark knew Bruce would disappear given the choice between Superman or Batman being in the League. Knew he would recluse himself from Clark's life if he asked for it. And he had.

It hurt Clark, but this was his best option, "We were slowing breaking the League apart. I couldn't let it go on. This was the cleaner break I could think of".

It wasn't enough for Diana, "You hurt Bruce for the good of the League? What is wrong with you? Didn't he save your life many times? How could you ask him to resign?".

Superman was already drowning in his ocean of guilt so he simply answered, "You don't understand Diana. Maybe, one day I will try to explain it to you. Not now".

"Kal! You stabbed your best friend in the back and if you think I will stand for this, you are mistaken".

Strangely, this made Superman think of "A good friend will always stab you in the front" quote by Oscar Wilde. Superman had been a good friend and he was the one bleeding his heart over the floor of the meeting hall, not Batman. As Superman had been the problem in their relationship, it was only fair he would pay for his mistakes by stabbing his own chest.

Superman wasn't in the mood to get scolded by Diana. He was surgically removing all signs of the tumor from his life, the one slowly driving him mad.

"Diana, can you just go?", he painfully muttered out, hands on his head, an headache starting as he remembered his next steps.

He heard her go after some time. It wasn't pity nor empathy. Diana was so angry she wanted to physically tear him apart. From her perspective, he had driven Bruce into his dark murky mad solitude in Gotham. He hurt one of her best friend for no good reason. She didn't understand everything had been falling apart before now. Superman had only avoided the inevitable car pileup his and Bruce friendship was doomed to become.

Clark stared a long time at the table, unwilling to make his next move. Five hours had passed when he realized he would lose what was left of his courage if he didn't finish this now. He stoop up, went to the zeta beam, and accepted to sense Bruce's heart again to find him. He was in his cave. So Clark went there.

He floated in the cave very slowly, trying to memorize every inch of the place, every speck of dust.

When he arrived in the main cave, Bruce was typing on the computer as he was almost always doing when Clark would fly over. For a long time, Clark was content watching his soon to be former friend type on his computer. The journalist liked taking in the fierce concentration the other had on a task.

Just has Clark was beginning to lose his nerves, Bruce spoke, "Do you want to have the conversation here or upstairs?"

Bruce was giving the choice of persona: Bruce and Clark or Batman and Superman. Clark wanted to have it face to face, still he didn't believe he could tell what he had to tell if he could see Bruce's ethereal blue eyes. So he simply said, "Here".

Bruce didn't turn around, still Clark could see him tense a bit his shoulders. Clark hadn't given him the answer he wanted.

"I was thinking of sending Red Robin as strategic adviser of the Justice League and Oracle for the information gathering", Bruce continued in his Batman voice.

Clark flinched at the voice, then answered, "Why not Nightwing? He would be a great asset".

"Nightwing would try to get us to be friends again. Red Robin won't. Also, Nightwing would have a lot more emotional issues with you after today".

Clark swallowed, "In that case, Red Robin is perfect". The rest remained unspoken.

There was a pause during which Bruce continued typing. Again, Bruce was the one to break the silence, "As for Bruce Wayne, he will start to avoid Metropolis, especially for Galas. He will stay mainly in Gotham and his appearances in Metropolis will be leaked or announced long in advance. Clark Kent can thus safely avoid him."

Clark's mouth was dry. Bruce's monotone tone didn't help him process the information.

"If there is Gotham problems flowing into Metropolis, Batman would send someone else over there. If there is Gotham problems that need a meta's help, Superman would send someone else".

Clark nodded even though Bruce didn't turn to see him.

"Matches Malone will not go into Metropolis territory. I believe I covered all the issues?", Batman dispassionately continued.

Clark loved Bruce. He loved and hated the fact Bruce was the most selfless person he knew. Bruce let himself disappear for Gotham and now for Clark. Getting stabbed by Kryptonite by Lex during their friendship had been less painful.

"You did, except for the why. You accepted what I said in the Watchtower. Do you know why I did that?", Clark had to ask, despite not making this any easier for either of them.

Bruce stopped typing as Batman. He became less meticulous and some minor signs of agitation were visible with his fingers' movement. "Does it matter if I know or not?", Bruce whispered almost gently.

It didn't. Nonetheless, Clark had wanted to know. "It matters for me", he mouthed quietly. There was no answer. But then again, Bruce had always been a query without answers.

He listened to Bruce continuing his typing, soon resuming his Batman style typing. As with usual silences with Bruce, it was a comfortable silence between the two men breaking their friendship in two.

Finally, Bruce broke the silence, "I need to patrol tonight".

Clark nodded and replied, "I'll get out of your way. Can I shake your hand?"

Bruce stood up in one graceful movement and walk slowly to Clark, stopping an inch closer to him then what was usual between the two. He offered his hand and Clark shook it with a choked, "Thanks for everything".

"It was an honor knowing you", the vigilante whispered back. That was that.

Clark had to go. There was tears in his eyes as he screamed in space his pain.

***

When he finally came back home, Lois was waiting at the table with some coffee and red eyes. She looked at his eyes and said, "You have been gone for two days without a mission or a call. It seems you have decided to give someone else a ring".

Clark gave her his darkest glare, "I didn't", as he fetch himself a mug of coffee.

He saw genuine surprise in his wife's face. She took a gulp of coffee and rapidly recalculated, "What happened?"

He studied the cupboard angrily, "Why are you so surprised? I choose you a long time ago, Lois".

She frowned, "You gave me the ring. It doesn't mean I will always be the one with your ring on".

That cut deep. Every one of the three persons Clark had a romantic love for had hurt him in the past 12 hours. Loving more than one meant he could be heartbroken more than once too in a small amount of time. This was taking a heavy emotional toll on him.

"Lois, this conversation can wait. I can't have another hard conversation today".

She looked relieved and curious at the same time. He had said no to someone else. He had said a resounding yes to her. She didn't have to push now to know the details.

"Are you coming to bed? If so, I suggest you take a shower", she said as she walked to bed less heavily than she had done recently.

This display should have assured him he had made the right choice. Should have made it easier to accept what he had done. It didn't.

He couldn't remember his dream that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the epilogue and last chapter.


	16. Touchstones of our Characters-Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many years have pass. Things have finally changed.

“Emotion doesn’t arise from the dreams, rather your deepest emotion orchestrates your dream.”  
― Abhijit Naskar

 

In the past five years, this was the second time Clark had seen Bruce or Batman in person. The other time being of course Dick's marriage. Neither could resolve to miss it, so they both ended up attending although they didn't speak to one another at that event. It had been hard. 

Yet it had been better circumstances than now. 

Now, Bruce laid rigid in a coffin.

Clark came early to see him without an audience. 

Tim had let him come in early. Red Robin had always been professional toward him in the Justice League, never cordial. Clark didn't blame him. It was better than Dick's and Damian's behavior after Bruce's resignation from the League. 

Even Alfred had been frosty polite at this arrival at the Manor. It stung to be called "Master Kent" again. 

At the same time, Clark told himself it was good the Batfamily was so protective of Bruce, since he needed people thinking of him. He was fragile despite his many strengths. 

Clark couldn't stop crying as he quietly observed Bruce finally getting the sleep he had more than earned. He took his former friend's hand and was sadden it was ice and no thrumming heartbeat could be heard. For a long time, Clark simply stood over him, teardrops falling on Bruce's chest. 

"Were you waiting for him to apologize or something? 'Cause I could have told you he wouldn't ever apologize", a mocking tone came from behind him. 

Clark didn't tear his eyes from Bruce, "Jason, stop that". 

"Ah! That is funny. You didn't care much for him for the past five years and you waltz here at his death to cry like a f***ing baby?"

"It is not like that", Clark weakly muttered. 

"Isn't it? You f***ing hypocrite!"

This wasn't the time for philosophical debate with Jason so Clark ignored him, only memorizing Bruce's features. Clark knew people would soon come in and he did something he never did in real life: he kissed Bruce once on the forehead, once on the lips and once where Bruce's heart was situated. 

"YOU GOTTA BE S****ING ME!", he heard a stunned Jason exclaim. Of course, Jason was still there. Clark went away to give him some privacy, since he had manners.

***

The funeral was nice enough. Dick had accepted a hug, Damian hadn't. Tim and Alfred had accepted an handshake. Jason wasn't visibly attending the ceremony, still Clark knew he was observing from the shadows. In some twisted ways, Jason was more like his mentor than the others ever were.

Lois and their son didn't come at his request. 

Nobody of the League had commented on Clark's presence although J'onn had squeezed his shoulder in compassion. Hal was still confused by Bruce's and Clark's weird relationship and he lifted an eyebrow at Clark. 

Diana was giving Clark the cold shoulder. Since Bruce's resignation, something had shifted in their relationship. Yes, Diana was his best friend in the Justice League and she did understand Superman well enough. She didn't understand Clark like Lois and Bruce had. She didn't understand Kal as Bruce had. Diana was not Bruce and hanging out with her made him yearn his other friend. It wasn't fair to Diana nor Bruce. 

The coffin was lowered to sad music. Damian played the violin with a clear mastery and deep emotions. If Clark wasn't already crying, he would have cried all over again. 

Then, Clark was left looking at the ground.

He had been selfish. He had hurt Bruce.

He knew it. 

He shouldn't have gone to see Zatanna after he had cut Bruce and Batman from his life. He had. 

At the beginning, she refused. She told him she wouldn't do it. 

Then, he started using his best arguments. Bruce had nightmares all the time. Wouldn't it be nice if he sometimes had dreams? 

She had hesitated. 

He knew back then he had won. Anyone who cared for Bruce wanted to help reduce his nightmares and alleviate his pain, even against his wishes. Clark had pressed on and Zatanna had accepted to link Bruce's and Clark's dreams together. When Clark went to sleep at the same time as Bruce, he would meet his friend in dreams. And Bruce would meet Clark. Zatanna said that if Bruce asked her to stop, she would stop it. Clark told her Bruce never remembered dreams, only nightmares, so it shouldn't be an issue. He asked her never to mention it to anyone. Zatanna had looked at him with pity in her eyes. Clark accepted the pity since it helped him to achieve his goals. He could have Lois in real life and the real Bruce in dreams. 

He had refused to think of the price of his actions until four nights ago. 

In his last dream with Clark, Bruce had told him to let him go. 

Clark hadn't understood. 

"Clark, I am dying. I do not want my soul to be stuck in a dream with you. We have already done more than enough harm as it is".

"You knew, Bruce?", he had asked his dream lover. 

Bruce sighed, "Of course I knew. I knew you loved me". 

Clark was quiet, "Does that means you really love me in real life, Bruce?"

Bruce shook his head, "No. I always saw you as a best friend. If things had been different, I might have". 

"But... you slept with me even though you didn't love me like that?"

"Yes."

"Why?", Clark whispered in pain. 

"I miss you. You were such an integral part of my life before you decided to cut all ties to me. I don't blame you for cutting ties with me. You did it to save the rest of your relationships". 

Clark's heart was pained. Bruce slept with him in dreams because he thought Clark would cut his ties with him again in the dreamland if he didn't act the lover's part. He thought Clark would leave him completely alone.

"Don't blame yourself, Clark. You are good in bed, in dreams. I have slept with people I didn't care at all for much less. And I do care for you. Just not in the way you wished".

Clark started sobbing. Bruce hugged him close, "It's fine Clark. We have had our time here. Now, it is time for you to let the dreams go. Don't take another dream mistress. Live fully with Lois".

Clark's sobs had redoubled. He now understood Bruce thought he was Clark's dirty secret, his secret mistress nobody could know about. In a way, it was true. 

He hadn't meant to hurt Bruce. He hadn't meant to be unfaithful in everything but physical consummation to Lois. He had been selfish in wanting everything.

Bruce held on tight to him, clumsily trying to reassure him, hands softly carding his hair, "Shush Clark... It is gonna be fine..." 

Clark finally stopped sobbing, although his body kept trembling, "Don't die Bruce. I love you". 

Bruce stilled. This was not Clark's first confession in the dreamland. It was his first confession knowing Bruce would remember. 

Bruce softly kissed his forehead, "I know you do Clark. I love you too. But you have to let me go entirely this time".

Clark held on even tighter to Bruce. 

"Clark", Bruce whispered softly, "Promise me you'll let me go this time". 

Clark didn't want to. Still, he had sacrificed Bruce to the altar of his sanity and he had asked Bruce to be his only in dreams. Clark had been selfish enough as it was. 

"I will", he finally said. Bruce gave him a bright smile and disappeared before his eyes.

Clark had woken with tears. He told Lois Bruce was probably dead. She understood and gave him an hug. 

Now, looking down at the ground Bruce was buried, he couldn't help but think he had been cruel to his best friend.

"Clark", a voice called him from behind. 

"Yes?"

"He gave me this to give to you. I don't think I would have if I hadn't seen you earlier", Jason said. 

Clark wiped his tears, "Why?"

Jason chuckled, "Why would he ask me, who is always at odds with him, to deliver you a letter? Good question. I almost burned it before I came here". Clark could believe it. Bruce would ask Tim to take his business and responsibilities, Dick to take care of Damian and Alfred to keep an eye on all of them and the Manor. Bruce could only ask Jason to do something nobody should know about. A dark secret. Something that might never reach its destination because of how whimsical Jason was.

"I can believe you almost did", Clark said with a ghost of a smile. He took the letter and opened it. Jason stayed in place, waiting.

Clark read the letter, water dripping on the paper. He then passed it to Jason. 

Jason took the letter and read it too. Clark pretended he didn't see his teardrops either. 

They stayed there overlooking the cemetery, all but forgotten by the mourners, both persons who were so important in Bruce's life and had pushed him aside. Jason had had a reconciliation. Clark hadn't. 

There was no words for the loss of Bruce. 

"You are rarely selfish, Clark. The rare times you were selfish, I couldn't hold it against you".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hope you enjoyed this story. Thanks for the kudos and comments. 
> 
> I had a much darker ending in mind when I started this, but when I started writing the Cutting the Mist chapter, this ending happened. 
> 
> Clark wanted to be happy and selfish. I caved in and gave him what he wanted no matter the consequences.


End file.
